Hearing him use my first name feels foreign. He always addresses me by my last name.
“Why do I get off lightly?” I ask him.
Without a doubt, Jon Morgan is the best coach I’ve ever played under. My respect for him as a player and now leader is huge. He’s turned the Blades around from the mess we were in when he took over the job. I’ve played my best games and recovered from the worst injury of my career under him, and I can’t think of another guy I’d rather see out my pro days playing for.
He drops a hand onto my shoulder, and my throat instantly turns thick. I’m not an emotional guy, and I wasn’t expecting this interaction to go how it is. I anticipated him shoving those feathers up my ass for being unhelpful.
“Thanks for showing up. Tommy, Jenna, and the rest of the guys can only imagine how tough this is for you, so soon after …” He trails off. “Well, after Maria.”
Warmth from his palm radiates through my suit, and I swallow down my emotions. It’s true; I’m not particularly stoked to be here, but I’m not about to miss my teammate’s big day or a chance to spend some time with the guys. Realistically, I’d have been riding out the next few days in the gym or lying on my couchif I hadn’t flown out here. I need to keep my head busy and away from spiraling thoughts.
“It is what it is, Coach,” I confirm.
That phrase seems to be my go-to these days. It says nothing and everything all at once and is a great way to sidestep difficult feelings. Because getting a divorce from the woman I once thought I was in love with fucking sucks.
Coach considers me for a moment, the ridiculous feathers blowing in his face. It’s February and not exactly warm in Lake Garda, but mercifully, the weather has taken pity on Jenna and Tommy with blue skies promised all day.
“If it’s any comfort to you, I was single and looking at the end of my pro career when I met Felicity.”
Felicity is Coach’s British wife and mom to Jack and Darcy. From what I heard about their love story, they were like fated mates, and he pursued her relentlessly before she finally gave in and agreed to date him.
“I’m not looking for anyone,” I reply, meaning every word. “Aside from a few hookups here and there, I can’t see me ever wanting to get involved with the opposite sex again.”
Coach lifts a doubtful brow. “That’s what they all say right before they meet the one.”
I chuckle at that. It’s low and dark and absolutely filled with cynicism. “I already had my chance, and it didn’t work out.” I look around the dressed courtyard. I might think that he’s fucking crazy, but Coach has nailed the venue. “I guess that’s why I’m here—to celebrate and remind myself that some people do fall and stay in love. And I hope that goes for Jenna and Tommy.”
I can’t deny how uncomfortable it is, having a heart-to-heart with Coach Morgan. On the contrary, he looks like he has conversations like this on the daily. A part of me envies that he can open up so easily. I see a lot of the same in his stepson, Jack, and I internally thank myself for never bringing kids into my former marriage—they’d have been closed off if they’d followed in my footsteps or an insane level of paranoid if they’d taken after Maria.
I reach up and adjust my glasses even though they were perfectly fine in the beginning.
“I’m here if you need to shoot the shit or talk anything out—you know that, right?”
With a nod, I clear my throat and then reach out to take the peacock feathers from him.
“Where were you headed with these?”
That’s another thing about Coach. He’s perceptive, just like Jack, annoyingly so at times.
Sensing that I’m done with talking about weddings and marriages, he waves an exasperated hand at the feathers. “Anywhere but the dining hall. They’re killing the modern vibe in there.”
“I promiseto cook and clean for you since you hate it so much.” Tommy draws a laugh from the guests with a line from his vows.
Jenna swats him in the chest, kicking up the laughter a couple of octaves. In a stunning yet simple white gown that hugs her athletic figure, she looks up at the man she’s about to make her husband.
Other than my interaction with Jon, I haven’t struggled to keep my emotions in check. But the second the officiant asks Sawyer for the rings and he only produces one for Jenna, my heart jumps into my throat.
Tommy has kept pretty tight-lipped about today, leaving mostly everything to Coach. We all assumed he’d get a band similar to Jenna’s, but that’s obviously not the plan when he pulls off a piece of tape from around his ring finger to reveal Jenna’s name inked into his skin.
Her hands instantly cover her mouth, and I pull off my glasses, quickly swiping underneath my eyes before anyone notices. Tommy is covered in tattoos, and pretty much all of themare from before he met his girl, although something tells me that while her name is the smallest tattoo he’s ever gotten, it’s definitely the most meaningful.
“Apparently, you don’t have to exchange rings to legally seal a marriage.”
He hooks his pointer finger under her chin, and tears tumble down her cheeks when he takes a step toward her. You could hear a pin drop in the courtyard, the swirling wind only adding to the romantic atmosphere.
Did Maria ever look at me like Jenna’s looking at my teammate?
“And I don’t need a ring. A band of metal is too temporary since it can be separated from my body. Ineverwant to be apart from you. I once told you that while I’ve changed so much since I got my tattoos, they will always have meaning—a reminder of the man I left behind and the one I want to be for you. Only ever for you. I asked the artist when I got it done to go as deep as he could because I never want our love to fade. This is my most significant tattoo.” He closes his eyes, resting his forehead against Jenna’s. “And when we become a threesome”—he palms her stomach, and the entire thirty-something party of guests collectively gasps—“I’m going to add their name to my body as well. Right where the scissors cut through the thread over my heart. You put me back together, Hellion. This reformed bad boy is so in love with you.”
